His Words on Her Lips
by 27vampyresinhermind
Summary: Working together was the last thing either of them wanted to do. For the sake of the music though, they had to make it work. A/U Puckleberry. Rated M. Now COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: I'm back lovelies! Okay, so I realize I've dropped the ball on those one-shots I promised but I'm hoping a new multi-chapter story will make up for it. This story is a/u and I'm mixing backgrounds (that'll make sense later) so I hope everyone likes it. I don't own Glee…**

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><p>Is it still considered a skyline when you're thirty thousand feet in the air with seemingly nothing but a blanket of clouds beneath you? Rachel didn't really know the answer nor did she care. All she knew was that somewhere beneath those clouds was a city waiting for her. It was almost odd to think that she'd spent her whole life with the goals of New York and Broadway on the forefront of her mind. And where was she headed? In the complete opposite direction!<p>

Los Angeles, California.

It was time for new goals to reach and a new city to conquer. New York had been her everything for as long as Rachel could remember. Broadway hadn't just been her dream, it'd been her way of life. Living day to day for the next audition, for the next call-back, for the next show was possibly one of the most exhilarating and terrifying experiences she'd ever had. And she wouldn't trade it for the world.

Three Tony awards later, two for Best Performance by a Leading Actress in a Musical and one for Best Performance by a Featured Actress in a Musical, she found herself with a recording contract and a new dream. It felt like she was starting over from scratch. In a sense, she was. Shortly after signing with the label, Rachel decided to move to L.A. The label's main offices were there, the city teemed with talent, and she just needed to be there. She couldn't explain it but it felt right. End of story.

People had questioned her decision to leave the stage from the start but she felt it in her heart. She wanted to sing more than show tunes. She wanted to sing her own songs, notes and words born of past experiences that left marks on her soul. But as Rachel looked down at the notebook in front of her, the page was full of more scribbles than words. The few sentences that were written down could've been stolen from some middle school student's love poem. It was painfully juvenile.

Suddenly, the plane hit a bit of turbulence and knocked her pen out of her hand. Just as well, she thought to herself. Writing anything worthwhile just wasn't in the cards today. She ignored the little voice in the back of her mind that whispered "or ever".

"Ma'am, we're preparing to land so I need you to close your tray-table." Rachel stared blankly up at the pretty flight attendant for a few seconds before realizing that she was talking to her.

"Oh, right, sorry about that." Rachel rushed to put her notebook away in her carry-on bag as the woman continued down the aisle with a harried expression. She couldn't blame her. It'd been a long flight and a man sitting a few rows up had been a total ass every time he'd opened his mouth. The poor woman, along with the rest of the passengers, wanted to get away from him.

Rachel sat back in her seat and turned towards her window. She took a deep breath as the plane lowered in altitude and dropped below the clouds. The city of angels felt like it was within her grasp. She could taste it. She just had to make it her own.

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><p>Oh good god why had she bothered to hire a decorator if she was just going to be forced to go behind them fixing everything? Honestly, what's the point in giving someone obsessively detailed notes, photo references, and an innumerable amount of color swatches if the job they were going to do was second-rate at best?<p>

Rachel growled to herself as she walked through her newly decorated apartment. Basically everything but the paint, which was the only thing the hack had gotten correct, would have to be rearranged. The furniture was all wrong, every piece of artwork on the walls needed to be moved, and she knew for a fact that the books in the bookshelf weren't even close to being in the correct order.

After a few minutes of consideration, Rachel decided that the bookshelf would be the easiest problem to fix. She'd just finished reorganizing the Broadway legends biography section when her phone began ringing. After seeing the caller i.d., she switched the speakerphone on and answered while she continued to reshelf the books.

"Hey T," she smiled in the phone's direction, "I miss you already."

"Aww I miss you too," she heard her best friend say. "How's life in L.A. so far?" Rachel contemplated Tina's question as she placed another book on the shelf.

"I've only been here two days. It's dry but I can live with that. I can't wait to start in the studio though." Tina laughed on the line and Rachel heard the deeper rumble of a man's voice. "Tina, is Mike there with you?" Another giggle sounded and Rachel had her confirmation.

"Yes he's here and we actually have some news to tell you." Rachel froze, book poised in midair, and waited for Tina to divulge the news. A few seconds passed and the suspense was killing her.

"Okay one of you better tell me something soon before I go crazy." Rachel turned her full attention to the phone, leaving the rest of her books on the floor and moved to her couch. Tina took a deep breath and when she spoke, Rachel could once again hear the smile in her voice.

"One of the dancers was involved in a car accident that messed his leg up pretty bad. So they had an opening in the ensemble and I told Mike to audition. We found out today that he got it!" Rachel released a gasp. Tina had already earned an understudy role in the national tour cast of _South Pacific_ and now her fiancé Mike would be a part of that cast with her. They would be touring the country together, performing together in a sense. If she was honest with herself, Rachel would admit she envied them just a bit.

"That's incredible you guys. I'm so happy, for both of you." And she meant it too. She'd learned the hard way not to let her jealous streak ruin her relationships with those closest to her.

"Thanks Rach," Tina and Mike said in unison. Sometimes, they were too adorable for their own good.

After Rachel had regaled her best friend with the tale of the inept decorator and Tina told her of how the barista at their favorite coffee shop had teared up when he'd been told that the whole Rachel-moving-to-Los-Angeles-to-become-a-singer thing wasn't some ridiculous ploy to get free coffee and that yes, she was no longer in the Big Apple, the conversation lulled just a bit. Rachel kept getting distracted with the ever-growing list in her head of things that still needed to be done around the apartment and Tina was clearly distracted by the packing she and Mike were doing.

Three thousand miles changes things apparently.

There was a beep from her phone that made Rachel roll her eyes when she saw who it was on call-waiting.

"Tina, my manager's calling me, probably to remind me of our meeting tomorrow. He reminded me yesterday but whatever. Whenever there's a lull in your touring schedule, I want to know everything about being on the road, okay?" She heard Tina laugh softly and she could practically see her nodding her head.

"Deal. I'll talk to you later Rach."

Reluctantly, Rachel ended one call and began the next. By the time she convinced her manager that she would be able to get to the meeting on her own and not to send a car, she felt exhausted. Silently, she prayed for the days to hurry up so she could get in the studio. Singing was where everything felt right.

Despite everything, _right_ was her main goal.

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><p>"What do you mean? I worked hard on that song." Rachel did her best to keep from seething. It was one thing to not think your songwriting was the best in the world. It was another entirely to be told that it was, in so many words, abysmal.<p>

She'd waited until the end of her meeting with the label higher-ups before saying anything about wanting to write some of her own songs for the album. Surprisingly, they'd been reasonably open to it.

That is, until she showed them what she'd been working on.

"I'm sorry Ms. Berry," the older gentleman started, "but looking at this song, it's quite obvious that we signed you due to your incredible vocal talent, not your songwriting abilities. I can't put it any other way. Despite how hard you've worked on this song, or the other two you've shown us, they're just not very good."

Rachel let her face fall. The meeting had gone so well. Her studio time was already booked, most of the songs for the album were already lined up. Everything seemed to be going well so she'd utilized the perfect opportunity to inform them of her own songwriting. Clearly, that idea didn't work out so well.

"But you don't understand. I don't just want to sing and perform other peoples' songs. I've done that my whole life both on and off stage. My dream is to hear my _own_ songs on the radio." She paused for a moment, forcing her emotions from the surface. Her professionalism had to shine through. "Please, let me work on my songwriting some more. I can get better. I know I can."

The man looked down at the song again and sighed. "Ms. Berry, we believe you are an amazing talent. Obviously, we wouldn't have signed you if we thought otherwise. But I would be remiss if I stroked your ego by saying that these songs you've written are up to par with the rest of the songs you'll be recording for the album. However, since you seem so adamant about it, I propose a compromise." Rachel leaned forward and waited for him to continue. "What if we had you work with a _professional_ songwriter, one of the best? You could collaborate, hone your skill, truly benefit from the experience."

The first thing Rachel wanted to do was shake her head and refuse. She didn't want to work with a songwriter, _professional_ or otherwise. She wanted to do it on her own. But something about all out refusing the idea didn't sit well with her.

"Can…can I think about it?" The man, whose name she'd deemed too difficult to pronounce to risk pronouncing it wrong (plus, referring to him as 'the man' happened to be fun), gave her a frustrated sigh.

"Very well Ms. Berry. I hope you reach a decision soon."

Later that night, Rachel sat at her kitchen table with the radio playing softly in the background. She'd been looking through a few of the songs already slated for recording when it hit her.

No amount of 'working on it', at least not by herself, was going to make her songs any better.

If she recorded one of her own songs, the way it stood, and had it next to something of a higher caliber such as the songs she held in her hands, the album would be stilted. She wanted every song to be great, not just the ones she'd taken practically no part in.

As much as she hated to admit it, she would need help.

Halfhearted, Rachel grabbed her phone and dialed the familiar number. When her manager picked up, she muttered, "fine, tell them I'll work with the professional songwriter."

By the time she drifted off to sleep in her bed, the recurring dream she'd been having over the past month of hearing her voice over the speakers of a radio suddenly seemed closer than ever.

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: Hi people! The response to the first chapter really got me excited! I can't thank you all enough. I really can't. FF's alerts got screwed up after I posted the first chapter so if I didn't reply to your review, I'm so sorry. I do most review replies from my phone but if I don't get the review alert from FF, I have no way of replying until I'm on a computer with internet. In this chapter, our songwriter is introduced (wonder who that could be) and some more of our secondary characters. I know it's short but the chapters will get a bit longer once the story progresses. That background mixing thing I talked about in the first chapter might make just a little sense now…if not, just ask me what I'm going on about. Hope everyone enjoys it! Thank you for reading lovelies! I don't own Glee…**

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><p>When Puck rolled over and saw who it was calling him at such an ungodly hour on a fucking Saturday, he almost chucked the phone at the wall so it would shut up and let him go back to sleep. Instead, he hit 'ignore' (that seemed less destructive than breaking yet another phone) and rolled over only to be greeted by a mess of unruly auburn curls attacking his face.<p>

That woke him up.

He sat up in his bed and looked down at the woman beside him. What was her name again? His brain scrambled to remember something he'd called her the night before, anything at all. He really doubted her name was "I'm Glad You Came" so her tramp stamp provided no help at all.

Before any names popped into his head, (had they even bothered to exchange names?) the damn phone started going off again. With a growl, he grabbed his phone and a pair of boxers so he could take the call without waking Tramp Stamp up.

Groggily, he slipped his boxers on outside his room and let the phone ring a little longer, almost hoping the guy would just give up.

"Do you know what time it is," he growled into the phone. The haughty chuckle he received in response made his jaw clench.

"Oh what happened? Did I almost wake the flavor of the night?" Puck rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. Leon, his agent, knew him too well sometimes.

"What do you want Leon? This better be good." Puck walked into his office, technically a home studio, and sat down at his computer. Might as well check email and shit while Leon tried to sell him on whatever new idea he had.

"You've been requested. The label wants you to come in and work with this new singer they've signed. They say she's really great, has a crazy amazing voice, but her songwriting leaves much to be desired. They want the best songwriter to work with her and that's you." Puck had started shaking his head as soon as Leon said the words 'new singer'.

"Leon you know I hate working with 'label babies'. I don't want to do it." He hated how much he sounded like a kid being told to clean his room but the fact remained. He had no desire to work directly with a new singer just because her label thought she needed work. And yeah, maybe she did need help. Honestly, considering some of the shit music most labels were cranking out, if _they_ thought the chick needed work, she was probably horrible. What was she writing about that had them cringing anyway? Hair accessories? Then he realized that Leon was talking again.

"And your writing will broaden the album's appeal. Plus, if you get to know her, you'd be able to write a few things specifically for her, it'll be all touchy-feely and sentimental." Again, Puck just rolled his eyes.

"Don't care," he spoke with a casual air into the phone. Leon continued as though he hadn't heard him.

"I know you prefer working with the indie artists but this Rachel Berry is gonna be the next star. Everyone loves her." Puck snorted. _Everyone_ doesn't know a damn thing about music. Hell, if it hadn't been for twelve-year-old girls with too much time spent on YouTube, half the so-called _artists_ would still be the no-talent hacks they always were, just with less money. "If you two collaborate, you'll be beating down offers with a stick. You think people are begging to work with you now? You won't be able to see straight with all the royalties coming your way."

There it was. Money. It always came back to money. Now Puck liked money just fine. But after moving to California from Texas for college and learning pretty fast that he could get paid for doing what he loved, it became clear what really drove the industry. Dollar signs were a language all their own. He didn't care so much about becoming famous or rich. As long as he could write the music that made people think, made people listen, made them _feel_, he was happy to get by. Granted, he was getting by exceptionally well, but that just meant he was good at what he did. Puck was proud of himself and the life he'd built. Money hadn't been his motivator and it never would be.

But since Leon, and the rest of them, spoke with dollar signs, he could too. And he knew how to use that language to get people off of his back.

"Whatever they're offering, tell them to double it and I'll think about it. And I want a bigger percentage of any royalties from whatever gets used." He didn't give two shits about any of it but demanding more money was always a surefire way to make people think twice before bothering you. Leon chuckled.

"Already done man. I knew you were gonna have this type of reaction so I told the execs I wasn't even gonna bother calling you until I saw some more numbers. They didn't even flinch. Must want you _really_ bad Puck." Well…shit. If Leon thought the number was big, it was fucking huge. "Oh I almost forgot. Artie Abrams is gonna be producing the album. You two are friends right?" Now Leon was just playing dumb to mess with him. Artie was probably one of Puck's best friends and they'd worked with each other on plenty of projects.

Puck thought for a second. If Artie was there, at least he'd have someone to make it all bearable. He sighed. Seemed like the 'next big star' was getting his help, whether he wanted to give it or not.

"Fine," Puck muttered, "have the paperwork drawn up and send it to Quinn so she can look it over. She'll bring it to me once she's convinced I'm not getting screwed over in the deal." Leon made a scandalized noise.

"What? You don't trust me or something Puck?" If he was being completely honest, that answer was a big fat NO. But Puck just laughed.

"Sure I do but Quinn would kick my ass if I signed anything without her going over it first. When you have an ice queen for a lawyer, you do what she says. You know how it is." Quinn Fabray was probably the best lawyer in the city so if she wanted to be a little bit of a bitch in business, she was totally free to do so.

"Okay then, I'll let the label know you're in and we're good to go. I can feel good things on the horizon Puck. Very good things." Again, Puck rolled his eyes. Leon was speaking in dollar signs again.

"Great, bye Leon."

It took a few seconds for Puck to realize what he'd just agreed to.

Damn it.

He let his head drop into his hands, his fingers rubbed his eyes, and a sigh left his mouth. For a moment after raising his head, he just stared at his laptop. His fingers began to move on the mouse pad and before he knew it, a browser page was open and he was typing 'Rachel Berry' in the search bar. Might as well do a little research on the chick if he was going to be working with her for the foreseeable future.

Well at least she was hot. The first picture that popped up was of her performing at the Tony Awards in this long flowing white dress. Puck hated to admit it but she kind of owned the stage. Quickly, he scrolled over a few articles and bio pages. So she had three Tony Awards and critics called her the biggest thing since Streisand. There was still no guarantee she would blow up as a recording artist.

The Broadway background didn't really get Puck excited. In addition to the general 'diva' status usually afforded to actresses from the stage, he couldn't ignore the smattering of reviews and articles that labeled the woman as a prima donna.

If Rachel Berry was a bitch, he really didn't know how he was supposed to write for her or work with her in any capacity.

But, she was _hot_.

"Puck, are you coming back to bed?" Puck looked towards the doorway with a start at the sound of his name. The woman from his bed whose name he was no closer to remembering stood just outside the office. Her hair fell over her shoulders and covered her breasts. The only item of clothing she had on was a pair of cotton underwear.

No reason he couldn't indulge in a little morning sex before sending whatsherface/Tramp-Stamp on her merry way with a smile on her lips.

"Yeah, sure babe. I'll be right there. Let me finish a little work here first." The woman just smiled and nodded her head before turning to go back to his bedroom. Puck turned his attention back to his computer screen. Rachel Berry smiled back at him from the photo he'd pulled up. He couldn't place it but something about her told him this would be an interesting experience if nothing else. Then he realized he had a pair of willing open thighs waiting in his bed and he was staring at a picture on a screen. Wanting to slap himself, Puck closed his laptop and made his way back to his room.

Turns out that when she's the one doing all the screaming, whether or not you know her name isn't such a big deal.

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><p>Puck pulled the headphones down so they hung around his neck. "I think that time was cleaner. Let's run it back though. Gotta make sure." When Artie started to play the track again, Puck could hear a note slip right at the beginning and shook his head. "Trash it dude, let me do it again." Artie wheeled over to another computer at the opposite end of the mixing board and started clicking away. He knew Artie had heard the slip too, otherwise he would've tried to convince him they could cut around it and still use what they'd already recorded of the song. Working with Artie was always better than working with other producers. So far, Artie was the only part about this new project he was looking forward to.<p>

Just as Puck was about to put his headphones back on, the door to the studio opened.

"How'd you find me," he asked the blonde woman. Quinn Fabray raised an eyebrow at him and sat her briefcase down on the couch. As she leaned over to pull some papers out, Puck noticed Artie checking her out.

"Your phone was off. The only time you turn your phone off is when you're in the studio. I've got some contracts you forgot to sign." Puck put the guitar back on its stand and took the papers from her hands. As he signed his name five more times, Quinn looked around the studio, taking in the sound booth and mixing board, all the instruments, _Artie_. "Artie, it's been a while. How have you been?" Puck looked up in time to see his friend's cheeks darken.

"Uh, um, I uh, I'm good." Artie never stuttered so the effect Quinn seemed to have on him was kind of funny. Quinn didn't seem to notice.

"So when is the Broadway star going to be here? I saw one of her shows when I went to New York on vacation last year. I'd love to meet her. She's incredible." Puck rolled his eyes. He had a feeling he'd be doing that a lot in the next few months.

"Her sessions start in a couple weeks so we're just laying some base tracks down for a few of the songs she's gonna be doing." He picked the guitar back up and adjusted it in his lap. He really wanted to get the guitar part solid so he could get behind the keyboard. The layering needed to be perfect.

"Well," Quinn hummed, "I see you boys are busy so I'll get out of your way. Maybe I'll swing by in a few weeks to see if Rachel Berry has a lawyer yet. Maybe I could give her my card." Puck cleared his throat loudly.

"Bye Quinn," he groaned. She might be one of the best lawyers he could ever ask for but if she stayed any longer, Artie's eyes would pop out of his head any time she moved. As soon as Quinn closed the door on her way out, Puck shot a pointed look at Artie. Artie just shrugged his shoulders.

"What? I didn't tell you to get a hot lawyer." Puck shook his head. While he didn't deny that Quinn was hot, she just didn't do it for him. It was a good thing though. It's hard to work with people and be professional if you're constantly trying to get into each other's pants. He was a little worried Artie was about to ask what her 'situation' was but instead, the man turned his chair back towards the computer. Artie chuckled as the track ran backwards. "So are you the least bit excited about working with a _Broadway star_?" Quinn's words echoed in Artie's voice and Puck shook his head.

"As long as she's not a raging, controlling bitch, maybe I won't kill her."

That was a big maybe.

**Like it or don't like it, feel free to tell me! Next chapter, Puck and Rachel meet! Love you guys!**


	3. Chapter 3

**a/n: Hey! Sorry for the long wait for this chapter. Been having some personal issues that wreak havoc with my muse so I hope you like the chapter. Thank you for the amazing response this story has gotten so far. I'm crazy happy you guys are liking it. Y'all are the best! Please enjoy this chapter and I hope you review afterwards. I don't own Glee…**

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><p>The car slowed to a stop as Rachel pulled into a parking spot outside the building that housed Lark's Song Studios. Butterflies of nerves and excitement filled her stomach. The smile on her face was possibly blinding and she didn't even care. She had a mixture of tepid water and honey in her travel mug and had used the driving time from her apartment to the studios to do her vocal warm-ups. It wasn't just the fact that she going to finally be recording songs for her first album that had her so excited. The day had arrived that she would finally meet the men who would be at her back for the process.<p>

The producer, Artie Abrams, had worked with countless other artists and was well-known for his abilities behind the mixing board. He knew how to effectively communicate that inherent emotion in a song so that the listener would feel every poignant nuance the music and lyrics held. Working with him would be an incredible learning experience.

The songwriter on the other hand was a completely different story. A mystery. Her agent had given her no clues to his identity except that he was one of the best. Rachel only hoped that working with him would be a good experience as well.

Walking through the building, the butterflies seemed to grow even more excited. By the time Rachel was standing in front of the door she was supposed to be on the other side of, she felt like she could quite literally explode with nervous laughter. Instead, she called upon her plethora of acting skills and simply smiled to herself. _This_ was where it would truly begin. _This_ was where magic would be made.

She was _ready_.

Pulling her confidence back so it would simmer just below the surface, Rachel put her hand on the doorknob and twisted it open.

Behind the door, she was greeted with the sight of two men. One, who she presumed to be Artie Abrams due to his wheelchair, was seated in front of a computer at the end of a mixing board that covered the better part of a wall. He seemed to be running a song through a synthesizing program and not approving of the results. She watched him scrap the file and bring another one up on the screen. From his side profile, Rachel could see he wore glasses, almost Buddy Holly reminiscent, and had a pleasant smile. Artie's t-shirt looked to have some comic book character on it ready for battle. Somehow, it put her at ease.

The other man, whose name she had yet to find out, must have been the songwriter. His black and white plaid shirt was open to reveal a plain white t-shirt underneath. He looked quite comfortable on the couch against the wall with a guitar in his lap and a notebook lying open on the cushion beside him. His hair was dark and short, like he'd shaved it days prior and it was beginning to grow back out. The scruff on his square jaw made Rachel tilt her head and stare a little longer. So this was the mystery man, one of the best songwriters to work with. His shoulders were broad, leading down to strong muscular arms. The kind of arms that could just wrap around your entire body, hold you tight, press you into the nearest hard surface…

Immediately, Rachel shook the new inappropriate thoughts from her mind. She didn't even know the man's name, much less anything else about him. Never before had any man aroused such a reaction from her mind (and body if the tingling between her thighs was anything to go on) and it knocked her off kilter. It didn't matter how attractive he was though. He was there as a professional and so was she. Rachel mentally reminded herself of that fact a couple more times before clearing her throat to bring attention to her presence.

"Hello, I'm Rachel."

Puck started a little at the sound of her voice. The melody in his head had been playing itself to his fingers and everything, even Artie, had melted away. But when his head turned and all he saw was one Rachel Berry, that melody could've been a piano crashing on the sidewalk as far as he was concerned. She was wearing faded jeans and a flowing gray blouse but all Puck could think was _damn, those pictures didn't do her justice_. For a second, he let himself wonder what she might be like in bed (What? That happened with every hot chick he met.) and then reeled himself in. He had to remind himself that he would only be working with this woman under protest. The label wanted them to work together and that was the end of it. He'd help her write a few songs, write one or two for her to round the album out, and they'd never have to see each other again. That was how he preferred things. Professional. No matter how hot she happened to be.

"Oh hey," Artie was the first to speak, "we weren't expecting you for another hour. I'm Artie." Rachel smiled at him and shook the hand he held out to her.

"It's nice to meet you." Both Rachel and Artie turned expectant eyes toward Puck who looked especially bored with the entire scene. He gave a slight nod of his chin in acknowledgement.

"Puck," was all he offered. Rachel arched her brow to the handsome unaccommodating man.

"Puck? I suppose you're the _incredible_ songwriter I'm to be working with?"  
>Puck's previous look of boredom morphed into a smirk of sinful proportions. He stood up from the couch and crossed his arms, lowering a look at Rachel that made her shiver in every way possible, good and bad. "And I guess you're the theatre princess who needs help writing her <em>own<em> songs."

Though his words were true, something in the snide way he said them rubbed Rachel the wrong way. As though he looked down on her for needing help. But, striving to remain professional, she bit back the retort on the tip of her tongue.

"That's me." She hated the way his tone made her defensive but nothing could be done to help it. "One of my problems is that I'll have the song in my head and I'll think it sounds just fine but when it's coming out for other people to hear, something gets lost in translation." Puck just nodded his head again, his bored expression coming back to his face, and sat back down on the couch. Rachel watched as he repositioned the guitar in his lap and absently fingered the frets.

"That's what happens when showtunes are the only experience you have," he muttered. Instantly, Rachel bristled. She felt her hands ball into fists and a very real desire to cause this man physical harm welled up in the pit of her stomach. It'd be a shame to mar that perfect jaw of his but she didn't care at that moment. If he thought her Broadway background only included what he so deemed as 'showtunes', he'd obviously not done his homework. Behind them, Artie cleared his throat.

"Okay you two, before y'all take another step with the wrong foot, why don't we talk about recording an album? Since that happens to be the reason we're here. Rachel, I was thinking that we could get you in the booth, do a couple of test runs, and then lay down a chorus or two of 'Open the Doors'. Does that sound good to you?"

Rachel remembered the first time she'd listened to the demo version of the song Artie mentioned. She loved it because of the instant connection she'd felt to it. The song was about proclaiming your dreams to the world and ignoring the naysayers. It was about following your heart.

"Yeah, that sounds great." When she looked through the glass and saw the microphone and the headphones, the foam on the walls, the stool in the corner, another nervous giggled welled up in her throat. Just as a smile was beginning to curve on her lips, a discord of notes sounded off from the couch.

"Have you ever even _been_ in a recording booth before," Puck asked with a slight roll of his eyes. Rachel turned around and glared at the man before she spat,

"I'll have you know that I have been on three original Broadway cast recordings for musicals I've been a part of, plus numerous albums for charities like Broadway Cares. So the answer is yes _Puck_, I've been in a recording booth a time or two." Rachel smirked at the somewhat surprised look on his face. _Maybe that'll shut him up_ she thought to herself.

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><p>"Artie, could you play it back please? I was a little sharp that time around." Through the glass that separated them, Rachel could see Artie pushing buttons and turning dials. In seconds, the chorus she'd just sung was echoing in her headphones. The pitch was probably only about a half-step off and could easily be fixed with auto-tune but Rachel shook her head. One term she'd specifically had added to her contract was that no auto-tune would be used on the album. "Okay, can we run it again? I really want to get that part right."<p>

"Sure thing," Artie held a thumbs-up sign. Artie started the instrumental track over and listened as Rachel began to sing again. He liked the purity in her voice, like she truly loved and meant every word that passed her lips.

Beside him, Puck released a very audible groan of annoyance.

"Good god, how many times is she gonna go over it? The second run was perfect dude. I don't know why you let her do it again, or the six times after that." Artie just raised an eyebrow at his bitching friend.

"If I remember correctly, you recorded one riff _eight_ times before you were satisfied with it. Just a guitar riff, not an entire backing track, no vocals, a _riff_. How about you be nicer to Rachel? She didn't do anything to you anyway." Puck bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from admitting that Artie had a point. So she had a specific way she wanted the song to sound. He was more than guilty of that. She'd done nothing to him. So what was it about her that rubbed him the wrong way, made her annoying?

Puck decided Artie's question was better left unanswered and looked down at his notebook. He had a habit of, whenever he had to write something for a person, making notes about them as a way of figuring out their mindset. But, the only notes he had on Rachel's page were random (rude) comments either pertaining to her theatre background or her lack of height. None of that was particularly inspiring.

"_Open the doors. Turn down the lights. Scream out your dreams into the night._" As Rachel sang the song's tagline again, Puck realized that listening to her singing someone else's song wasn't going to get the muse going either. He dropped his pen on the page and stood up.

"I gotta pee," he called over his shoulder as he left the room. Working on this album was gonna take _forever_.

Rachel watched Puck leave as she finished up the last take on the chorus. She didn't need to hear it back to know it would be the one to use. Being in the studio was exhilarating but if they were going to continue the song, she needed hydration.

"Artie," she spoke into the microphone, "my throat's a little dry. Is it okay for me to bring my travel mug in here?"

"Yeah, just don't spill it on anything."

Rachel found her travel mug on the couch where she'd left it. Beside it, Puck's notebook lay open. A quick look behind her said Artie wasn't paying attention. Puck was nowhere to be found. Curiosity reigned in her mind. What made this abrasive man so great at what he did? Carefully, Rachel leaned over until the words scribbled all over the page came into focus. What she saw caused her eyes to narrow.

One brief conversation with Puck had been enough to clue her in on the fact that he didn't care for the stage. But seeing things like 'theatre princess' and 'mouthy diva' in Puck's masculine scrawl let her know that it was more than the Great White Way that he had a problem with. Puck had a problem with _her_.

Well that just wouldn't do at all.

Until the album was finished, she and Puck would be occupying the same space together. If that was going to work in the slightest, they would have to find some shred of respect to have for each other just to keep from tearing each other's heads off.

"I'm going to fix this," Rachel muttered to herself, "and soon."


	4. Chapter 4

**a/n: Okay guys, I just want to apologize for how long it's been taking me with chapters on this story. Issues have still been hell on my muse, plus I'm worried about the interest for this story. I do plan on finishing it though. So please review and thank you for supporting me. I don't own Glee.**

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><p>They'd been recording for two weeks. Based on the yelling coming from the other side of the door, Quinn wasn't really positive how any of them had survived that long.<p>

She'd thought that two weeks would be a good amount of time to wait, allow the 'artists' to get acquainted with each other and fall into a routine, before she made up some legal excuse to need to see her client and drop by the studio while Rachel Berry happened to be there. She also had a business card with Artie's name on it. He was cute.

The sight in the room would almost have been comical had the professional side of her brain not focused on the possible legal ramifications of some of the things Puck was shouting at the woman.

"Why don't you pull the stick out of your ass before it reaches your brain and _really_ fucks with your hearing! I can't believe you want to change the bass line now. It's fine! We wrapped that song yesterday and the session musician who recorded the part is in Australia. Don't know how things were done in New York but out here, the world isn't at your beck and call! Sorry princess."

"If I have a stick in my ass, I'm sure you had something to do with it! I was only suggesting the bass line be tweaked a little bit. It's not like I wanted to rearrange the entire song. But fine, I can see you're going to be impossible. Just forget I said anything about it. And stop calling me _princess_!"

"Oh my bad. Would you like 'bitch' better? How about 'pitch bitch'? That's got a nice little rhyme to it and I know you like rhyming. If I have to listen to you go through one more page of that fucking rhyming dictionary of yours, I swear I'll burn the thing!"

Apparently, fire threats were Artie's limit.

"Hey! That's enough from both of you!" Artie rolled over and intentionally ran his wheel into Puck's leg. "Nobody's burning a damn thing in my studio. Puck, stop being such an ass. Rachel just wants the song a certain way. Rachel, Puck's right. The bass line is fine. Now you two have been at each other's throats since the beginning and I'm sick of playing referee. Grow the hell up."

Quinn could count on two hands the number of times she'd interacted in some way with Artie and neither of those hands would be needed to count how many times she'd seen him so much as raise his voice. How bad had it gotten?

"I agree with Artie," Quinn cleared her throat. "I'm already going to have to pretend that I didn't hear half of what you said anyway Puck." The room's occupants froze as they realized their argument had gained a witness. Rachel looked a little embarrassed and confused but Puck practically snarled. Quinn stepped closer and smiled. "Quinn Fabray. I saw you in _The Secrets of Night_ last summer. You're spectacular." Just as Rachel was about to reply, Puck scoffed beside them.

"Oh great. Pitch bitch, meet the legal bitch." Quinn narrowed her eyes and roughly shoved Puck's shoulder.

"A lot of people pay me good money to be a bitch. You're one of them Puck. Perhaps I should give myself a raise courtesy of the retainer that comes directly from your bank account just to jar your memory." Whatever Puck was about to say, he thought better of it and resigned to grumbling to himself instead. Quinn turned back to meet Rachel's confused stare. "I'm Puck's lawyer," she explained.

"Oh that makes sense. Could I ask you a question? Is it possible to sue someone for being an _asshole_?" Rachel shot a heated look in Puck's direction but he already had his guitar on his lap purposely ignoring her. Quinn laughed uneasily, trying to figure out if Rachel was the least bit serious.

"Um," she shrugged, "nothing's _impossible_ I guess. But I would recommend settling out of court for something like that." Rachel nodded thoughtfully, which worried Quinn just a little bit, and shot a pointed glare at Puck again.

"Good to know," she mumbled. Rachel stepped over to a stool in the corner, the farthest spot from Puck, which allowed Quinn a little more space to step into the room. The tension between the two was thick. Even Artie looked frazzled.

"So, should I even bother asking how it's been going?" Both Rachel and Puck answered with identical scoffs but Artie glared at both of them.

"Hell," he replied. "I feel like a babysitter half of the time and that is _not_ in my job description. These two act like children on the best days."

"Hey she's the one who acts like a brat whenever—"

"He jumps down my throat any time I try to—"

Artie rolled his eyes as they tried to talk over each other. "See what I mean? They've been like this for two weeks straight. We're all going crazy." At that moment, Artie's stomach growled. Puck's followed suit, which seemed to make Rachel laugh. That gave Quinn an idea.

"Did you ever consider that fresh air might do you three some good? Think about it. You've all been spending day in and day out trying to work together in this stuffy little space. Anyone would be sick of each other after that. Why don't we all go out for lunch or something? You can interact with other human beings, like me." Quinn directed the very last bit of her statement at Artie, hoping he would get the point.

A look of dawning fluttered across his features and Quinn nodded with a soft smile. This would be the perfect chance to get to know him better.

"I like that idea," Artie grinned. His smile was infectious. He nodded towards Puck and Rachel before asking, "what about you two? Can you be civil if you're out in public together?" Puck just grumbled and Rachel muttered to herself but Artie chuckled. "Fine, I'm taking that as a yes because I'm starving. Let's go."

On her way to the restaurant, Rachel thought about how she'd failed in her plan to confront Puck about the things he'd written in his notebook. It wasn't as if she hadn't tried. It just seemed that, more often than not, whenever they tried to have any conversation at all, it would inevitably devolve into nothing more than an argument. She wasn't proud of it either. Normally, Rachel could debate with the best and come out on top. But with Puck, the arguments always seemed to end in stalemate with neither of them willing to budge until Artie eventually stepped in to diffuse the situation. The entire relationship was not conducive to a creative working environment.

Rachel realized that Puck might be less inclined to start an argument in a public setting, such as a restaurant. It could be a good idea to have that conversation out in the open so that some actual progress could be made. After two weeks of fighting, anything was worth a shot.

The second she walked in, Rachel noticed Quinn and Artie already had a table. There seemed to be an almost nervous tension between the two of them. Did Artie like Puck's lawyer? Based on the goofy smile he wore and the slight blush in his cheeks, it certainly appeared so. Puck was nowhere to be seen so Rachel made her way to the table.

"Hey Rachel," Quinn smiled, "Artie was just telling me about Puck giving you a hard time in the studio. Don't worry about it too much. He may seem like an ass half of the time but if you ask me, it's just an act so he doesn't have to deal with people."

Rachel raised one eyebrow and snorted. "And the other half of the time?" At that, Artie chuckled as he adjusted his glasses.

"Well then he's mostly just being an ass. I'm used to him. Puck's actually a pretty good guy once you get to know him. It's the getting to know him that takes a little work." Rachel had to wonder if getting to know Puck was more work than he was worth.

"Where is he anyway," Rachel asked. "He left before I did and traffic wasn't bad at all. I thought the whole idea of this lunch was so we could attempt to be civil in public." Quinn wanted to laugh at the idea of them trying to get along. After seeing their fight at the studio, and the others Artie had told her about on the drive over, it was quite hilarious.

"He got here just before you walked in and said something about game highlights being on in the bar. He should be back in a bit."

A few minutes passed and the waiter took their orders. Quinn started asking Rachel questions about New York and Broadway and before she knew it, they had a spa day planned. Rachel could really see herself becoming friends with the woman.

It was almost time for their food to arrive when Rachel realized that Puck still had yet to join them. If his plan was to just blatantly ignore her in public, it was not going to work. Artie and Quinn had begun talking mostly to each other so Rachel quietly excused herself, grabbed her purse, and made a beeline for the bar. _Let him try to ignore me when I sit down beside him._

The second she stepped into the bar area of the restaurant, she noticed that none of the televisions were even on. Then she noticed Puck sitting at the bar nursing a beer bottle.

"Are you avoiding me," she asked as she slid onto the stool next to his. No need to beat around the bush. Puck snorted a tiny bit of his beer in surprise and Rachel had to giggle.

"Well not now that you're here. What do you want?" Biting her tongue, Rachel remembered Quinn's comment about how Puck acted like an ass as a way of pushing people away. She needed to break through.

"We need to talk." Puck turned to look at her, his face a mask of indifference.

"And if I don't want to talk," he asked with a stubborn tinge.

"You can listen then. Look, I know you obviously don't like me very much." Puck interrupted her with a scoff of derision.

"What was your first clue Princess?"

"Your notebook." Puck's entire body visibly tensed up at her answer. She wasn't prepared for the glare she received in response.

"Why the fuck were you snooping in my stuff?"

Rachel had to take a deep breath. His voice was low, his jaw set, and his eyes were on fire. Honestly, Puck was somewhat terrifying when he was angry. And a little hotter. "I wasn't snooping. The day we met, you left the studio for a little bit and your notebook was open. I saw my name across the top of the page and got curious. But the things you'd written, though certainly not the worst things I've ever had written about me, were a little harsh. Especially considering that we'd only just met hours before." Puck took a swig of his beer and sat up a little straighter in his seat.

"It's how I work. Whenever I have to write a song for an artist, I always start with little notes about the person. That was all I came up with that day. You weren't supposed to see it but that doesn't mean I'm going to apologize for the things I wrote. Besides, it's not like you've proven me wrong on anything I had on that page." He waited a moment for her to argue but she stayed silent. "Like I said, you weren't supposed to see it in the first place." If Rachel hadn't of known any better, she would've thought that there was a flash of guilt in Puck's eyes.

"How do you expect to write anything for me, or help me write my own songs, if you think so lowly of me?" Minutes passed and Puck didn't answer. Rachel wasn't even positive he was listening anymore. That had never stopped her before. "Look, I want to be a better songwriter and you have the ability to help me with that. All I'm asking for is a chance. I'm not suggesting we become the best of friends or anything ridiculous like that. But we've got to find some middle ground here. We need to find some way to respect each other enough to work together. Us fighting over every little thing is never going to work and you know it." Suddenly, Puck laughed and the smirk he gave her reminded her of their first meeting all over again.

"You're hot when you get pissed though," he replied. Rachel gasped softly but Puck continued, "annoying, but hot." The compliment was somewhat backhanded but it was probably the nicest thing he'd said to her in the short time they'd known each other.

"Um, thank you. As I was saying though, we can't keep fighting over everything. Yelling at you is definitely not good for my voice. Could you just help me out with my songs? Please?"

Puck finished off his beer and motioned to the bartender for his bill. As he was waiting, he turned to see Rachel staring at him. She was intense. "Can you stop getting a bug up your ass whenever something doesn't go _exactly_ the way you want it to go?" He knew that probably wasn't the best thing to say but that didn't make her glare any less funny.

"Only if you can do the same," Rachel quickly shot back. Puck had to give her that one.

"Touché. Fine, I'll help." Immediately, Rachel grabbed her purse and pulled a small notebook and large folder out of it, plopping both down on the bar. "You want me to help _now_," Puck asked in disbelief.

"I thought it would be easier here than back at the table. Quinn and Artie seem to be getting closer and I didn't really want to impose on that. Quinn seems like such a great person." Puck eyed Rachel for a minute before grabbing her folder.

"When did you and my lawyer get to be BFF's?"

Rachel already wanted to roll her eyes at his tone. "Am I not allowed to be friends with people connected to you or something?"

Puck lifted one shoulder and shook his head. "I just think it's a little weird. I mean, you were asking her about suing me earlier." This time, Rachel did roll her eyes.

"Well Puck I would just hate for anything to be weird for you. Why don't you make me a list of everyone in the greater Los Angeles area that you come into contact with on a regular basis so I'll know exactly who I can and can't be friends with? Will that save you from experiencing any weirdness?" Puck decided for once in his life that biting his tongue would probably be best. Rachel may be hot when she got pissed but she was a lot easier to deal with when she wasn't trying to bite his head off for something.

Instantly, Puck found his mind going to a very wrong place.

"Forget it. Let's see what I'm working with here." Opening her folder, he started looking through the songs she'd already finished. One page caught his eye and when he took it out, the laughter could not be stopped. "Dear god, no wonder they called me. These are horrible. I can't believe I was right. You _actually _wrote about hair accessories!"

Rachel looked at the sheet Puck had taken out of the folder and groaned. "Oh my god. That was the very first song I ever wrote and I only keep it in there to remind me that I can only get better. 'My Headband' isn't all that bad though." Puck started laughing again. "Okay it's terrible. You win. But now you see why I need your help." Puck nodded emphatically.

"I think you're going to have to start completely over Princess. These are just, what were you thinking with some of these?" Before Rachel could answer, the waiter who'd taken their order came up.

"Excuse me miss, your food has been delivered to your table. Would you like me to bring it in here instead?"

"No thank you. I think we'll be rejoining our table soon." For some reason, Puck didn't really like the way the guy was looking at Rachel.

"Okay dude, she said we're going back to the table. You got anything else?" The waiter stuttered for a minute before just walking away. Rachel lightly hit Puck's shoulder.

"That was a little rude of you. He was just doing his job."

"Whatever. We were working and he interrupted." Puck slid the papers back into the folder and handed it back to Rachel. "Let's go eat. We can work on that crap when we get back to the studio."

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><p>"See, I told you guys that getting out of the studio for a little bit would be good for you." Quinn laughed as she followed the group back inside the studio after lunch. "Rachel, you've got my number now so call me if he starts giving you trouble again. I'll see you at the spa next week. Puck, don't make me see you next in court. And Artie, I'll see you tomorrow night. I've got to get back to the office so try not to kill each other."<p>

As Quinn left the studio, Artie stared after her. He'd never really expected to hit it off with her but they had. And now they had a date planned so he was pretty damn stoked.

"Okay you two, I've got some final mixing to do on one of the songs so you can chill for a little bit."

Rachel sat down on the couch while Artie rolled over to his computer. She looked expectantly at Puck for a moment but when it became clear that he really was just going to _chill_, Rachel reminded him, "You said we could work on my songwriting when we got back to the studio. We have time now."

Puck grabbed his guitar from its stand and sat down in one of the rolling chairs in front of the sound board. He stared at Rachel for a few seconds. She actually looked like she was breaths away from pulling that damn rhyming dictionary out again. "Okay, first things first, you have to know what you want to write a song about." Rachel still looked hilariously out of her element. "So, are you gonna tell me what you want to write about?"

"Oh, um, well I guess, uh, love?"

He couldn't help it. The scoff came out before he even thought about it. "Love? You want to write a song about love? Wow. What a new and unheard of concept! I bet nobody's _ever_ done that before." Rachel crossed her arms but Puck still kept on her. "Have you ever even been in love?

"Yes," she replied hastily, "once." Puck could feel his cynical side about to bubble to the surface and didn't bother to hold it back. If the Princess wanted his help to write a song about _love_, she was gonna be clear on his views on the matter.

"And are you still in love with that person now?"

"Of course not," she bristled. There was a story there, he was sure of it. "He became very controlling and jealous. It was too much so I ended the relationship."

Again, he scoffed. "Well clearly that whole love thing has worked out so well for you. Tell me something. Why would you want to write about something that you've only felt _once_ in your life and that time didn't even work out?"

Rachel had to admit that he made a good point but that didn't really change her mind. "Just because the experiences I've had with love weren't that great doesn't mean I'm just going to write off the whole concept."

Puck waved his hand dismissively. "Well write it off for now. Get that little notebook of yours out and make out a list of things _besides love_ that you would want to write a song about. We'll see if we can work from there. Don't fuck up."

As Rachel searched through her purse for her notebook, Puck strummed a few random chords on his guitar. She couldn't help thinking that, even though he was still being a little mean, at least Puck was helping now too.

That was better than nothing.

**a/n2: What do you guys think about a rating change for next chapter? Because one is certainly planned!**


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n: Who's ready for a rating change? Hope everyone enjoys this chapter. Please review lovelies! I don't own Glee…**

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><p><em>She's so damn annoying. She's so fucking gorgeous.<em>

Those two thoughts seemed to be on a loop in Puck's head. Watching her through the sound booth glass, behind that microphone, she just looked so alive. Her body gently swayed to the ballad as she sang. He didn't want to look away. He couldn't look away.

Blindly, Puck reached for his coffee cup sitting off to the side. As he brought it to his lips, Rachel hit a note that he felt in his gut. His body went numb from the sensation and his coffee went everywhere but in his mouth. When the scalding liquid ran down his chest, Puck jumped up from his chair.

"Shit!"

Artie looked over at him and realized what had happened. "Dude, are you okay? You didn't spill any on the equipment did you?" Puck shot a glare at his friend as he tried in vain to pull the soaked part of his shirt away from his skin.

"Nice to see what you really care about," he muttered. Artie rolled his eyes. If Puck was being a smart ass, he was perfectly fine.

"I hope you got another shirt," Artie chuckled, "because something tells me that's gonna get uncomfortable." Growling, Puck started looking through his backpack. The one day that he didn't wear a muscle shirt under his t-shirt, he spills coffee everywhere. What are the chances?

Finally, he found a muscle shirt at the bottom of his bag that smelled clean and quickly pulled his coffee-covered t-shirt over his head.

Rachel had been watching the scene through the glass. She saw Puck spill coffee all over himself but she didn't really know why. He had the mug up to his lips and everything. But the second he peeled that shirt off his body, Rachel felt her throat go dry. The note fell flat and she sputtered a cough. That one cough turned into a coughing fit and she heard the music cut off in the headphones. When she got her bearings back, she looked up to see that Puck had replaced his shirt with a new one, one that only accentuated his ridiculously beautiful arms, and was staring right at her with an unnerving smirk on his face. Oh great. She'd been caught. Before her cheeks could even flush to a bright crimson, Puck leaned over and pressed a button on the sound board. His voice echoed in her ears.

"You okay there Rachel? Not sure that note was really up to par with the rest of the song." Rachel didn't know how he could be so calm and infuriating after spilling hot coffee on his chest.

"I got distracted," she mumbled into the microphone. "Is your chest okay," she mocked. His face fell momentarily but then he grinned again and pressed the button.

"Why don't we just run the line again, princess? See if you can pay attention this time."

Puck didn't let up after that. Something about seeing him without a shirt made Rachel flub a line or note every time she looked at him afterwards and he seemed to know it. His evil smirk told her that much. She almost wished she could just flash him and see if he would get tongue-tied too. It would probably be worth it just to see whatever reaction he might have.

Artie noticed the time around five-thirty. "Hey Rachel," he started as she stepped out of the sound booth, "do you mind if we call it a day? I'm meeting Quinn at STK in an hour and I still have to go home and shower and stuff." Puck watched Rachel's face fall and was slightly confused. After the day she'd had in the studio, he'd expect her to be begging to go home early. Her perfectionist self had been distracted ever since his incident with the coffee that morning and he could tell she wasn't really happy with having to run things three and four times over when she'd been nailing them in one or two.

"Oh, okay. You and Quinn have fun. Tell her hi for me please." Artie wasted no time in gathering his stuff and booking it out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Puck watched as Rachel started shove things into her purse.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Rachel's eyes widened when she looked up and saw how close Puck had gotten. His arms were right there. His chest still vaguely smelled of his coffee and that only brought all the memories of his bare torso back from that morning. The muscles below her stomach tugged achingly as she shook her head to get the memories to leave her alone.

"Nothing," she shrugged, "I just really wanted to get this song finished today. It's one of my favorites and I feel like I haven't really done it justice. I've been, I don't know, out of it since this morning." She didn't miss the tiny grin that fluttered across his lips in response. "But now that Artie's gone, we have to stop recording. Hopefully I'll do better tomorrow." Puck reached out and touched her arm to still her but they both felt the small surge of…something…as he did so.

"If you want, I do producing on the side and I've worked with Artie on projects for a while now. I know how to work everything." Rachel cocked her head to the side.

"I don't really understand what you're saying Puck." Puck rolled his eyes but found himself smiling in spite of it all.

"I'm saying that if you want to keep working, I'll stay and help. We'll try and get this song finished, since it's your favorite. You know, if you think we can do it without killing each other." Rachel shook her head.

"Puck that's very kind of you but I'm sure you have better places to be." She started for the door again but this time, Puck quickly moved to stand in her way and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Princess, I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to help. Besides, it'll be fun to bug you while Artie's not here to stop me." Rachel stared at him for a minute. Ever since their uneasy truce at the bar, he had been more amenable. They hadn't had a real chance to work on her songwriting together yet but recording was a busy and long process so that didn't really surprise her. Other than the nickname that he seemed adamant about keeping, although he no longer called her 'princess' in a belligerent tone, he'd become great company in the studio. Of course, that was before he decided to pull his clothes off while she was recording!

Well, she couldn't really fault him for that. But why did his body have to be so disorienting?

"Thank you Puck. I'd like that very much." Puck moved over to the computer, which Artie forgot to shut down in his rush to leave for his date, and easily found the track files for the song. He turned to see Rachel looking at him, biting her lip. _Fucking gorgeous._

"Well what are you waiting for? Get back in there babe." As she walked back into the sound booth, Puck openly stared at her backside. Even under that long bohemian skirt, he knew it was perfect. Images assaulted his brain of his handprints being left on the smooth flesh of her ass from gripping her and pounding into her until…

"Puck, I'm ready." Her voice was breathy around him and his hands tensed.

"W-what," he breathed into the speaker so she could hear.

"I said I'm ready. You can start the track."

Puck pushed the necessary keys and listened as Rachel began singing the chorus. Her voice was raw, like she believed in every word she sang. If he didn't know how bad her writing was, he would've thought she'd written the song herself considering the connection she'd formed with it. He looked up and met her gaze through the glass and failed to ignore the tingling sensation that crawled down his spine. Rachel licked her lips and the next note that came out was strained.

He stopped the track as she cleared her throat. "You alright in there?"

"Just play it again," she answered, "I can do it." Rachel closed her eyes, knowing that looking at Puck seemed to make her throat go dry. It would be impossible to get anything done with his eyes on her. She just couldn't think straight.

She got to the last part of the song, the part she'd been messing up on most of the day, and defiantly opened her eyes. Rachel didn't want to let him have that power over her, to make her body betray her mind. But her body had other ideas. The very last note went too high and before she could bring it back, the music in her headphones shut off.

"Come on princess, you can hit the note. I've heard you do it. What's going on in there?" Rachel glared at him, thinking to herself _you're going on in here_.

"Okay Puckerman, if you think you're so awesome, why don't you come in here and do it yourself?" For just a second, she allowed herself to think that maybe that would shut him up. But as he stood up and walked towards the door to the sound booth, she realized she should've known better.

"You asked for it princess." He held his hand up to reveal a remote of some sort and set about putting the other pair of headphones on. Puck then pressed a button on the remote and the song began playing again. She guessed that it wirelessly controlled the computer system.

When he started to sing, her eyes went wide. The voice she heard in her ears took her completely by surprise. Somehow, it matched the man standing beside her but didn't at the same time. It had an edge that she felt in her gut but a silkiness that she felt everywhere else. Every word he crooned was like a tendril of passion that licked at her skin. Puck motioned for her to start singing again. Nothing could have prepared her for the sound of their voices combined, like they were meant to resound together. Singing with him, going back and forth, the song became a duet that Rachel could've sang for the rest of her life. He was mesmerizing and the thought couldn't be stopped in her mind. _Why isn't he recording and releasing an album?_

The song ended and Rachel realized that Puck had trailed off at the end allowing her to nail the note all by herself. She didn't need a playback to know that what they'd just recorded would be the best take. It took a few seconds for her to catch her breath and when she did, Puck was standing very close again.

"Puck that was incredible. Your voice, it's amazing. We've been in the studio for more than a month and I'm just now hearing you? What's up with that?" Puck chuckled.

"I'm a songwriter babe. When I first started, it was pretty Coyote Ugly. The only way to get my songs heard was to sing them myself. So yeah, I can sing when I have to, or when I have a point to prove to you princess." Rachel had to smile because yes, he'd certainly proven his point. She looked up into his eyes and watched them darken. The air in the room changed. It pricked at her skin. "You're incredible," he whispered. Gone was the edgy silk tone he'd sang with moments before. His voice was raspy, close. Too close.

"Puck, we can't," but he silenced her with a finger to her lips.

"It's Noah."

It took about one second for her conscience to scream 'this is a bad idea' and about half that time for her to tell her conscience to shut the hell up.

His kiss felt familiar and she couldn't figure out why. The way he cupped the back of her head, lightly tugging on her hair, seemed like something from a dream. His lips were soft but his tongue was demanding. Rachel opened her mouth to him without hesitation and had to moan when he nipped at her lip. Feeling his tongue tangle with her own was heady, forced her to lock her knees to keep them from falling out from under her. Strong hands gripped her hips and pulled her forward into a wall of muscle. The sensation of his erection against her stomach made her moan into his mouth. Puck, _Noah_, leaned into her as his hands started to drag her shirt up her torso. His fingers wasted no time unhooking her bra before the shirt had even made it over her head.

Puck knew this was about as far from professional as you could get but with the way Rachel's boobs fit so perfectly into his palms, he couldn't be bothered to give a shit. Her nipples pebbled under his thumbs as she arched her back a little. It felt like whenever she moved, she rubbed against his cock and he couldn't really take it much longer. Rachel's finger nails dug into his biceps when she pulled his body closer.

Rachel felt his hand sliding up her thigh and taking her skirt with it. Before she knew what was happening, they were on their knees on the plush area rug covering the floor. His hands had already pushed her skirt up to her hips and he was about to tug her panties down her legs when she stopped him and pulled away from his lips.

"Puck, Noah," she breathed, "there's no way in hell I'm going to be the only one naked here." Relief washed over his face and she knew it was because he'd thought she was going to stop everything altogether. If that thought had crossed her mind at all, she'd been too entangled with the man's tongue to notice. She smirked and ticked her head back. "Lose the shirt and jeans." He pulled her face back to his and kissed her breathless before finally pulling away to fling the muscle shirt to the ground. When his hands went to the button of his jeans, Rachel felt almost giddy with anticipation.

Puck almost got distracted by the way Rachel's chest was moving up and down with her quickened breathing. The look in her eyes was practically feral and he was pretty sure that when he lowered his zipper, she growled. God this woman was trying to make him combust. Puck stroked himself slowly, watching her reaction. Rachel surprised him by shimmying out of both her panties and skirt and laying down in front of him. He watched as her eyebrow ticked up and a slow, almost nervous, smile spread on her swollen lips. Puck grabbed her ankles and slid her closer. His jeans were still around his knees so he reached into the back pocket for a condom.

Rachel couldn't look away as he rolled the condom down his length. She'd never been in awe of a man's penis before but Noah…_good_ _god_. Her entire body pulsed with impatience. Noah leaned over her and quickly pressed his lips to hers. At the same time his tongue slipped past her lips, she felt his fingers slide up her slit. He swallowed her gasp with a grin and began to work her over. Her hips lifted off the floor when he curled his finger inside her but he didn't stop. Rachel knew she'd never climaxed so fast in her life but she could feel the tell-tale pulling of every muscle at her center that said only one thing. And then, as if he already knew her body, Noah stopped. He removed his fingers and rose up over her, an absolute sinful smile on his face that shot electricity through her body.

"I've wanted to fuck you since the moment you walked in that door Princess," Puck whispered, pleased at the flush that moved from her cheeks down to her chest. He leaned down again and flicked his tongue across her nipple and grinned. "You ready?"

Rachel fought the urge to roll her eyes (his fingers were still wet from how ready she was) and bit her lip. "God yes."

Puck kissed her neck as he slid into her. He couldn't believe how tight she was. When she wrapped her legs around his waist, he sank a little deeper and groaned against her shoulder. Rachel moaned in response so he thrust with a little more force. "God that feels so good," Rachel muttered. Puck nipped at her skin and moved her legs a little higher. The whimpering sound she started making was going to drive him crazy in all the best ways. He pushed into her twice more before lifting Rachel's legs to his shoulders.

Rachel felt his hands cup her behind as he continued to piston his hips. The sting in her back told her that rug burn was happening without question. Being filled by Noah was quite possibly the most exquisite feeling she'd ever known, right up there with giving all three of her Tony acceptance speeches. The way he stretched her, covered her, _satisfied_ her, was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. His breath fanned across her chest where his mouth had been. The cool sensation made her nipples even harder. She could feel her stomach tightening all over again and she prayed that he wouldn't stop. In answer to that prayer, he sped up. The moans came out of her mouth before she could stop them. She barely recognized the voice as her own. She was so close and the feeling was making her insane. Again, in that strange intuitive way he had, Noah seemed to know. His lips closed over hers, his fingers worked at her clit, and his thrusts became even more powerful. The sensation overload wrought havoc on her body. As the orgasm overtook everything, it felt like she was literally coming apart at the seams.

Puck didn't let up throughout her orgasm. He drew it out until the very last possible second, until nothing mattered but the pleasure of being inside the woman beneath him. He couldn't hold out any longer. With one last look into her eyes, Puck grabbed Rachel's hips in a bruising hold and roared his release. Rachel moved around him, her muscles still fluttering as the last traces of her climax ran through her body. As Puck pulled out, he caught himself wishing that he could see Rachel in that tired-satiated state all the time. It suited her.

Gently, he slapped her thigh and chuckled at the whiny noise she made. "Come on Princess, you've got a recording to finish. Get dressed."

As Rachel was putting her clothes back on, she thought of something. "Noah, why don't we just use the last take? The one with you singing? It sounded amazing and I nailed the last part like I've been trying to do all day. It sounded perfect as a duet." Puck tensed up. He'd been afraid of this happening the second he stepped into the sound booth.

"No," he said flatly. "I'll go restart the track." He started to walk away but Rachel reached out and grabbed his hand.

"But, I want to use that take. Why are you suddenly being difficult?" Rachel was thoroughly confused. This wasn't the same man who'd just had sex with her on the floor of the recording studio. This wasn't even the same man who'd been helping her record. He looked…angry.

"Guess what, you can't use something with my voice unless I sign off on it and I'm not doing that. Now let's start over. Record it again." Rachel flinched at his voice. What was happening?

"But…I thought that," she didn't really know what else to say. Her eyes drifted down to the floor where his shirt still lay. He snatched it back up and hastily threw it over his head.

"You thought what," he snarled. "Because we _fucked_, I'll just let you do whatever the hell you want? Got news for you Princess, it doesn't work that way." Rachel gasped at his words and fought the urge to slap him. He deserved it of course but she didn't want to waste the effort on him if he was going to be like this.

"Thank you," she whispered, "for taking a wonderful thing that happened between us and cheapening it to nothing more than a _fuck_ in an instant. I'll record the song again when I damn well feel like but you know just as much as I do that the version we _both sang_ is going to be the best one. I don't know what your deal is _Puck_, but I'm leaving. I would say 'fuck you' but I guess in your mind we just did."

Puck watched as Rachel stormed out of the studio. Instantly, he felt like shit for making her mad (which surprised the hell out of him). Especially right after they'd had sex, hot, awesome, incredible sex. But he didn't record. She just didn't understand that. But now that he'd royally pissed her off, he wasn't sure he'd ever get the chance to make her understand.


	6. Chapter 6

**a/n: As always, I'm sorry for the wait. The muse just isn't nice much anymore. I hope you all like it and I would love it if you'd review. You guys always keep me going and I love you for it. Thank you! I don't own Glee…**

Rachel luxuriated in the feel of the expert hands working on every tense muscle in her back. Despite the war still raging in her mind, her body was as relaxed as possible due to the best massage ever.

It'd been almost a week since it happened and she'd had no luck whatsoever getting Noah—no, _Puck_—out of her mind. She couldn't wrap her head around the way he'd acted. He went from playful and sweet, sexy as hell and incredible, to a complete and utter asshole in the span of mere seconds. It was like all the progress they'd made towards being civil with each other, having _sex_ even, had just been thrown out the window. He'd been perfectly fine until she'd mentioned using the take of the song that they'd sang together. What was his deal anyway?

"Rachel, are you still alive over there?" Quinn's voice brought her back to the present. Rachel had a week off from recording to make some time for interviews and general vocal rest so Quinn had scheduled their spa day during that week. During her massage, it was almost possible to tune out Quinn's gushy rambling about how amazing her date, and subsequent _dates_, with Artie had been. Rachel honestly adored Quinn now but how do you relax when someone is talking your ear off?

"Yes Quinn, I'm still alive and listening," she muttered. Rachel opened her eyes but didn't raise her head from the hole in the massage table. "Artie made you dinner at his house and then took you for a spin." As soon as the words were out, Rachel gasped at herself. Thankfully, Quinn just snorted.

"Not exactly how I put it but yes. You know, that kind of comment sounds more like Puck than you." Just the mention of his name simultaneously sent tingles and tension radiating down Rachel's spine. Quinn noticed. "Oh god, he hasn't been giving you anymore problems has he? I thought you two had kind of worked things out." Rachel sighed in resignation, wishing Quinn would go back to talking about her blossoming relationship with Artie instead of the subject she was branching off to.

"Yes," Rachel stated as she rose up from the massage table, "but not the kind of problems you're thinking of." She motioned to the masseuse that she was done and began slipping her arms into the sleeves of the plush spa robe. Quinn gasped behind her as she did so.

"Oh my god, Rachel what happened to your back?" Rachel tried to pull the robe on quicker but Quinn was fast and suddenly, the lawyer was at her back. Inquisitive. Examining. "Are these, are these _rug burns_?" Rachel held her breath and pulled the robe onto her shoulders. When she turned, Quinn's calculating stare became discerning. "Hold on, are _these_ the kinds of problems you're having with Puck? You guys are having sex." Rachel rolled her eyes, knowing that Quinn would use every tool in her arsenal to get the entire story out of her. She didn't exactly want to relive the ending.

"No, we had sex, once." Quinn immediately sat down beside her on the massage table, her bright eyes asking a million questions. "Last week, Artie left the studio early for his date with you. I wanted to keep recording so Puck offered to stay and help. He'd already been giving me a hard time that day because he'd caught me staring at him and I'd flubbed a few lines. Every time I would look at him, the note would go off. That's never happened to me before and it got so frustrating, especially with him commenting about it whenever it happened. So I told him to come in the booth and do it better if he thought he could." Rachel paused as Quinn snickered knowingly. She absently wondered how many times Quinn had told Puck the same thing with their legal dealings. "We ended up turning the song into a duet. And it sounded amazing Quinn. His voice was perfect and we sounded incredible together. I was completely blown away. Then we kissed, and kept kissing." Quinn smirked and nodded her head.

"Then that escalated to naked kissing on the floor! So what's the problem?" Just thinking of 'the problem' made anger surge through her body all over again. Rachel jumped to the floor and couldn't help pacing.

"The problem is him! Afterwards, I wanted to use the take of us singing together because it was amazing and he suddenly turns into a complete and total asshole! He started acting like I had only had sex with him to use the song or something, like I'm some kind slut! I couldn't believe the way he was acting. We'd been getting along so well and then somehow me wanting to use his voice on the track made him worse than he was when we first met! I just don't understand what happened. We haven't spoken since then and the tension in the studio is worse than ever before. Before all of this happened, we'd set a date for me to go to his house and try to work on my songwriting but I'm not even sure if I should bother going now. I don't know what to do."

For a moment, Quinn let herself be a little shocked that Puck and Rachel had slept together in the studio. In the years that she had worked for and with the man, Puck was always a consummate professional in business. And in the short time she'd known Rachel, she knew that the woman took herself and her job very seriously. It was somewhat surprising that the two had let themselves get that carried away. That being said, she'd seen a spark between the two of them and considering how passionate they both were, it was only a matter of time before that spark ignited a fire.

"Look Rachel, do you want to be a better songwriter or not?" Rachel nodded her head. "Okay then. Puck is your best chance at that right now. You guys found a middle ground once. I know you can do it again. For the sake of the music, which, let's face it, is the most important thing to _both_ of you, you have to."

Rachel thought back to her time with Puck. The good and bad. If she was being honest, it had all been worthwhile for the most part. Quinn was right.

"Alright. I'll go. Hell, maybe I'll even find out what his problem really is."

As Quinn followed Rachel into the sauna, she silently hoped that maybe Rachel could get Puck to open up. If he broke one of his rules over her, who's to say he wouldn't do it again?

* * *

><p>Rachel stared through her windshield willing herself to get out of the car. Talking a big game at the spa while surrounded by steam and eucalyptus mud masks was easy. Now that she was actually sitting outside Puck's house, all of the words she'd planned on saying to him were gone. Her mind had become a blank slate. How was it that he could have that effect with just the <em>idea <em>of being around him? Nothing made sense.

After forcing her hand to open her car door, she had to then force her feet to walk up the small walkway to his front door. Before her brain could convince those reticent feet to turn and run straight back to her car, she knocked quickly on the door. Like so many times before, the sight that greeted her caused her mouth to run dry.

Puck stood in his doorway wearing nothing but a pair of camouflage shorts that had seen better days. A trail of hair ran down from his bellybutton only to disappear below the waistband of what looked to be Batman boxers. She couldn't stop herself from staring at his chest even though it only brought back images of his body suspended over hers, his hands gripping her fiercely as his thrusts drove her to the brink.

For a minute, he looked confused, like he couldn't figure out whether or not she was really standing there in front of him on his doorstep or simply a figment of his imagination. He scratched at the stubble on his chin and sighed softly. His voice was disinterested but his eyes said a completely different story. "What are you doing here?"

Rachel wanted to get offended that he hadn't remembered the date they'd set for him to help her with the songwriting but considering how much she'd tried to forget lately, she didn't feel blaming him would do any good. She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath before jumping in. "Before we had sex and ruined everything, we'd established a day for me to come to your house so we could have a little workshop for my songs. I realize that things between us have been very strained recently but I propose that we just treat the entire situation like a one-night stand and go back to the way things were before so we can work together again. You know I need your help so please, can we just put this all behind us? For the sake of the music, let's just put our truce back in place and get this over with."

The second she said it, Puck hated the idea of treating the sex they'd had in the studio as a one-night stand. Ever since she'd stomped away that day, he'd felt like shit. He really wasn't sure what had surprised him more, his asshole reaction to Rachel wanting to use the track of them together or the fact that her reaction afterwards had made him start second-guessing a large part of his career in addition to making him feel like a jerk. He knew she deserved an apology, an explanation, and a rejection of that stupid 'let's forget the sex' plan. After almost two weeks, they'd barely said a full sentence to each other and he was honestly sick of it. He wanted Rachel Berry back, whatever that meant, and he knew that her showing up on his doorstep for a songwriting session that he'd forgotten about would be his best chance.

Puck ticked his head back and stepped to the side to let Rachel into his house. "We'll probably be able to work better in my office. You want anything to drink?"

"Water please."

After returning with her bottle of water, Puck led her down the hall to his home studio. He pretended not to notice her tiny gasp when she stepped into the room. His studio was the part of his house that he was most proud of, that he was truly in love with. He watched her walk around for a second as she got her bearings in his space. She pressed some keys on his keyboard but no sound came out since the instrument wasn't on. Something about seeing her in his studio made him feel like she needed to be there.

"Before we start doing anything, we should probably clear the air." Puck resisted the urge to grab his guitar as he sat down on his couch. The guitar was his biggest crutch and he didn't want to _need_ it in order to talk to Rachel.

"What do you mean," Rachel feigned confusion. "I proposed that we put it all behind us. That solves the problem."

Puck rolled his eyes. "You know as well as I do that pretending we never had sex doesn't solve a damn thing." Instantly, Rachel's eyes burned into his and her nostrils flared.

"Oh you're calling it sex now. I thought it was just a fuck to you." At her words, Puck dropped his head, that shit feeling coming back with a vengeance.

"Rachel I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean it and I never should have said it." She looked guarded, like an invisible wall was up and Puck just wanted to knock it down. "When we sang together, it reminded me of when I first moved out here. Music was everything to me. It still is. I went to a music school, got a job there after I graduated, and on the side I played in a few bands. I ended up recording and releasing an album." That got Rachel's attention.

"You have an album? I never found anything when I researched you though."

Puck ticked his eyebrow. "You researched me?" He wanted to laugh just because he'd done the exact same thing. Instantly, Rachel looked shy and timid, a little embarrassed.

"I like to know who I'm working with. After we met, I researched your body of work. That's one reason I didn't run the other way when things got rough in the studio. I knew how talented you were. But I never saw anything about an album."

"That's probably because I used a pseudonym. The album didn't really go anywhere but I didn't care. I just wanted to write, get my songs heard. Then one night, I was in a bar with some friends and this guy was up on this little stage with a guitar and a microphone. I wasn't really paying attention until suddenly I hear something a little too familiar." Rachel's eyes went a little wider as she grasped what he was saying. Puck continued. "The little shit stole my songs, claimed them as his own. That's when I first met Quinn. The lawsuit was ugly but Quinn won. She's a fucking incredible lawyer and I've had her ever since then. After that though, I swore that writing songs would be the only thing I did. No more recording." He sighed and looked into Rachel's eyes. "But then we sang together and it just reminded me of everything I loved about this job when I first started out. For the first time since I decided that I would never record again, I started questioning that decision. I don't question my decisions and the fact that you, without even really trying, got me to do that scared the hell out of me. And then you wanted to use our take for your album and I went off. Everything I said was idiotic and hurtful and I know that it's way too late to take it back now. But you made me feel things that I was pretty sure I had on lock a long time ago. I didn't know what to do, so I pushed you away and hated myself for it afterwards."

Rachel shifted in her seat. Hearing him say all those things was like hearing him with new ears. Though she still didn't like that he'd blown up on her, she understood the reason. Standing on his doorstep, this had been the last thing on her mind that they'd be talking about but he'd opened up. Something inside her said he deserved the same courtesy.

"It's okay. I think what caught me off guard was that you made it seem like I'd only had sex with you as some kind of bribe. You made me feel cheap and I hated you for it. One other person in my life has made me feel like that before and I cut them out of my life the second it happened. But for some reason, besides the fact that we have to work together, I just couldn't cut you out completely." Puck could tell that 'the person' wasn't someone she really like talking about but the idea wouldn't leave him alone. He had to know the story.

"The other guy that made you feel cheap, is that the same controlling jealous guy you were in love with?" Just by the look in her eyes, he knew he'd hit the nail on the head before she could say anything.

"Yes unfortunately. The first musical I was ever in on Broadway, I fell pretty hard for the director. We'd been together for about two months when he started acting weird. He didn't like me being around other men. Always wanted to know where I was and what I was doing whenever we weren't together. It was just so hard to be with him but, love makes you stupid I guess. I just kept telling myself that he was only jealous because he cared about me and that I was lucky to be with someone like him. My fathers came to visit me for a weekend and I'd turned my phone off so I could be with them. The next thing I know, he comes bursting into my apartment acting like I intentionally ignored him or something. He almost started a fight with both of my fathers and they're quite peaceable men. I broke up with him that night. The next day, I went to the theatre and he had started a rumor that I'd only been with him to get ahead in the musical. Which is preposterous considering that I was cast as the lead before he was even brought in as the director! But that didn't seem to matter because the rumor just spread throughout the cast. My agent got me an audition for another play just a few days later and I left the cast. I haven't spoken to him since then." Rachel took a deep breath. It'd been years since she'd thought of that ordeal and it surprised her that this time around, the pain was gone. Just a vague annoyance that it had ever happened to begin with was in its place.

"Again, I'm sorry," Puck repeated himself, "that I ever made you feel like that. Think you can forgive me?" One look into his piercing eyes and she knew she would. Rachel nodded her head.

"We'll work on it. Until then, can we try to work on a song?"

Puck was a little surprised when he saw how much Rachel had been writing since they'd last worked on her stuff. Apparently being incredibly pissed at him made her muses go into overdrive. He helped her with the musicality on all of the ones she'd finished, tweaking the words and notes here and there, and then helped her flesh out other ideas for songs she had yet to complete. After three hours of writing, he started recording an instrumental track for one they'd written pretty much equally so she could get a demo done to take to the studio. Watching her sing in the studio had been incredible but watching her sing something she'd penned with her own hand was magic. The fact that that magic was taking place in his home, in his studio, was overwhelming. She made him remember what it felt like to be so in love with music that everything else faded away, the industry, his cynicism, _everything_. It was just the music, the way it was supposed to be.

Demo CD in hand, Rachel walked out to her car. She'd never dreamed that their makeshift workshop would work out so well. Together, they'd written one song and he'd helped her polish three of her own. Working with Puck was easy when that middle ground felt firmer.

As she stuck the keys in the ignition, Puck's front door opened and he started running across his front lawn towards her car. She rolled her window down as he came up beside the car. Before she could say anything, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

"Thank you," Puck whispered, "for reminding me why I love this job. You were unbelievable." He paused for a second, just happy to stare into her eyes. "Listen, we had sex and unlike other women, I can't just pretend that nothing happened between us. And right now, I'm really hoping that you can't either."

Rachel sighed softly. There'd been no hope for that plan the second it had formed. "I can't," she conceded. "But after what we've been through since we slept together, it seems a bit ridiculous to have any sort of expectations where we're concerned."

Puck nodded his head as he stood up. He backed away from her car door and smirked. "I think your expectations should be higher."


	7. Chapter 7Epilogue

**a/n: So I'd originally intended for seven chapters and then an epilogue but since I just finished both of them and they're pretty short, I'm posting chapter seven and the epilogue as one. This story is now complete and I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you so much for the support. I love you all. I don't own glee…**

Rachel and Artie kept looking from each other to the clock and back again. She was starting to get worried. It was her first day back in the studio since her week off and all she could think of was how amazing it would feel to record the song she and Noah had written together. But she didn't want to start recording without him there.

So where was he?

"Rachel I don't understand. He's never late to the studio. Want me to try calling him again?" Artie wasn't really sure what else he could do. Puck was thirty minutes late and that was a big deal considering he was early to the studio most of the time. He felt just a little bad for Rachel since she'd come in that morning all excited about a song she'd apparently written with Puck during their time off.

She was just about to dig her phone out of her purse and call him herself when the door to the studio suddenly swung open.

The second Noah walked into the room, Rachel could feel something was different about him. He seemed, lighter, less brooding than she'd grown accustomed to. Without saying a word, he pulled on the rolling chair she was seated in until she was facing him, wide-eyed and curious but unable to speak. Before words were able to form, he threaded his fingers through her hair and kissed her with all the passion of a longtime lover. Rachel squeaked her surprised, mainly because Artie was sitting two feet away, but quickly returned his kiss. Holding nothing back, she gladly accepted his tongue past her lips, practically purring when his tongue sent a spark of electricity through every nerve in her body. It was exactly like the first time, and nothing like it at all.

Beside them, Artie cleared his throat. When that didn't do anything, he shrugged his shoulders and decided he might as well go call Quinn and tell her that she owed him dinner at her place. After she'd told him about how Rachel and Puck had apparently had sex in the studio, he'd bet her that something was bound to happen in the studio again. He'd been a firsthand witness to way too much tension between the two of them so it made sense that they would happily _slip up_ again. She insisted that they were both too professional to let something like that happen again but gladly accepted his wager. Artie didn't care who won that bet since he'd get another date with the beautiful lawyer no matter what. But it'd still be funny to hear the surprise in her voice when he broke the news to her.

Gently, Puck broke the kiss when he heard Artie leave the room. He had to grin at the still confused look on Rachel's face. Fuck, she was cute. From his back pocket, he pulled out one of his notebooks that held his songs and wordlessly handed it to her. He could tell that she recognized it as the same one he'd used while they'd been at his house only a few days before. She looked up at him with more questions in her eyes but he just gestured to the notebook again.

In the middle, a section of pages had been folded down so Rachel opened to them. As she read the notes and words scrawled across the paper, a soft gasp escaped from her throat. The song was like some strange and fitting amalgamation of their stories, their past. It held insinuations to feeling cheated by the world, becoming disillusioned with the things you loved the most, striking out and creating your own path and then rediscovering what had always spoken to your heart.

The words alone made Rachel fall in love with the song. They were his words; _Noah's_ words. At that moment, somehow singing it became everything.

Tentative, Rachel looked back up at Noah. The thoughts running through her head were jumbled but she knew two things for certain. She wanted to sing _this_ song for the album and she _needed_ Noah to sing it with her. Given his reaction to the last time she'd requested his voice in a song, a prick of disappointment shot through her. How could she ask that of him again?

"Noah, I—it's beautiful." He released a breath and smiled. For a moment, she thought he would kiss her again. Instead, he pulled a stool in front of her chair and sat down.

"After you left the other day, I couldn't get this melody out of my head. I started thinking about the story you told me, about that douche bag director and how he'd made you feel, and lines started popping up in front of me. By the time I'd finished writing it, it had become this whole combination of—well, of you and me." He paused suddenly, just staring into her eyes, and Rachel felt a strange sense of hope bubble up in her throat. She didn't know what that was about. "The whole time I was writing and composing the song, I kept hearing it my head, as a duet. I know what I said about never wanting to record again but… Rachel, you awakened something in me the other day when we sang together. And I'm giving this song to you with no expectations but I'd be honored if you'd let me sing it with you." Rachel felt her eyes welling with tears as she smiled up at him. "And I got it cleared by the execs this morning before I got here, that's why I was late, so you can use it for the album if you want."

She didn't know what to say but her body was screaming for her to touch him. She obeyed without hesitation. Swinging her arms around his shoulders, Rachel hugged him as tight as she was able to. When she felt his lips on the top of her head in a soft kiss, she mumbled a soft "thank you so much" into his neck. He kissed her again, the tip of her nose and then her mouth, and grinned.

With his forehead touching hers, he whispered, "so, are we gonna do this or not?" Rachel giggled against his mouth and replied,

"That's a loaded question." Noah waggled his eyebrows suggestively as Artie came back in the room.

Loaded or not, they both knew the answer was 'yes'.

The lights in the sound booth had been dimmed as Puck sat on the floor with his guitar in his lap. Rachel sat across from him with the microphone adjusted between them. The notes hung around them, like a fort children make with sheets and couch cushions. They were cocooned in the song, the music, that was all them. It felt like a beginning. New, frightening, exciting, everything at once. Wherever this experience took them, both Rachel and Puck knew that it would only bring them even closer together.

The music would accept nothing less.

**Epilogue**

Rachel was close to falling back asleep when a chuckle at her back shook her awake. Noah had turned the television on once he woke from their nap and immediately started laughing at the story that _E! News_ was running. Rachel leaned her head back against his chest and focused on the program to see what was so funny.

_"Sources close to the Broadway-turned-pop-star say she's head over heels for the new man in her life. With Rachel Berry's national tour starting soon, everyone is not only wondering who exactly the mystery man is but just how he'll feel sharing the sensation with her adoring fans."_

"So," Noah poked her in her side, "it's been two months and they still consider me 'new' and a 'mystery'. You know once the tour gets underway, the rumors are gonna fly like crazy."

Rachel turned her face up to his and smiled. Dragging his mouth down to hers, she startled him a little bit by nipping at his lip. Turnabout was fair play apparently because suddenly his hands were inflicting such delicious torture on her bare breasts. When they pulled away for air, his arms simply settled around her midsection, securing her to his front. He dropped a kiss to her neck and sighed.

"Noah I've dealt with rumors my entire life. I don't care what the tabloids say now or when the tour starts. We're together and nothing they say is going to change that. Besides, this is all a dream come true for me and knowing that you're going to be there with me, on stage in every arena, just makes it even better. I never thought I'd be glad that my guitarist had to back out at the last minute either." At that, Puck smirked.

"Well I figured since I was gonna be there with you for our song performances, it wasn't that big of a deal to step in as your lead guitarist either." Rachel rolled her eyes. He had a habit of downplaying things just to mess with her.

"It _is_ a big deal Noah. After all we've shared since we met, I couldn't be more happy to be sharing this with you too. I want you with me." Again, his mouth descended on hers and she could feel his smile. Few things could compare to that feeling.

Rachel turned around and straddled his hips, never breaking the kiss. He gripped her thighs and slowly slid his hands higher. Just before his thumbs reached their destination, both of their phones began making noises to signal they'd received text messages. Puck ignored his but Rachel leaned forward to grab her phone off of the bedside table. Puck took the opportunity to swirl his tongue over her nipple, pleased when she moaned and ground down on his dick while reading her text message.

"It's Quinn. We were supposed to meet her and Artie for dinner thirty minutes ago. How did we both forget?" Puck just laughed at her worried expression. He guessed his own text message was from Artie and probably said something like 'you two quit fucking around we're hungry'. He smirked and circled her other nipple.

"I've got a couple ideas about how we forgot."

Rachel didn't want to stop his ministrations but she knew she should. Or shouldn't. Or never. God why did he always make it so difficult to think straight? It was wonderful.

Just five more minutes. Maybe an hour?

As they were getting dressed, Rachel could hear Noah humming from across the room. It made her pause in putting her shoes on and stare at him. She didn't recognize the song but it was beautiful all the same.

"Is that a new one Noah?" He just nodded as he zipped his jeans continued to hum the tune. "What's it called?" With nimble fingers, he buttoned his shirt while making his way across the room to her. Standing in front of her, he lifted her chin up so she was staring into his eyes.

Softly, he whispered, "I was thinking something along the lines of 'My Words on Your Lips'. What do you think?" Rachel sighed.

"I love it. How'd this one come to you?" He shrugged his shoulders and gave her the smile that made her insides melt.

"I have a great muse."

_**-fin-**_

**a/n2: Okay, I've been thinking about this for some time now. Lately, my muse has been fighting me tooth and nail on fanfic and it kills me. However, ideas for original work has been flowing more than it has in years and I just can't ignore that. Four years ago, I finished my first book-length thing, an original work, and it's what made me positive that writing the worlds and characters in my head was what I want to do. So as of right now, I'm taking a break from actively writing fanfic (however if the Puckleberry muse attacks me like she's been known to do, I'll go with the flow) so I can see if my original novel ideas could ever see the light of day. I love you guys all so much and I could never thank you enough for the endless words of support you've given me since I entered this crazy fandom just hoping to get my writing out there. I'm always around, especially on Twitter, and on here as well. If anyone ever wants to shoot me a line, please don't hesitate. This isn't goodbye forever. Just goodbye for now.**

**Meagan (musicconsumes)**


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